


Come at once....

by NairobiWonders



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Joanlock - Freeform, Platonic joanlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NairobiWonders/pseuds/NairobiWonders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four vignettes I wrote as quick fics and posted on tumblr. Watson finds her own way of expressing her anger at Sherlock's abandoning her and the partnership. Humor with the slightest touch of angst. Perhaps a minimal spoiler for season three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come at once....

Four in the morning. She couldn’t sleep. Joan figured Sherlock would just about now be nodding off. She lived with him long enough to understand his sleep patterns were uncommon but fairly predictable. Joan texted him.  
• U up?

No response. She waited a few minutes before texting again.  
• S! R U awake. Need info re: exploding rabbits. W.

Joan smiled broadly. This was by no means going to make up for all his transgressions and yes, it was extremely juvenile to prank text, but at the moment, it gave her pleasure.  
• Have a theory - bunny bombs! Need to discuss. W.

No answer again. She wondered how long before she got an irate text back.  
• Come at once if conve….

A knock on her door stopped her mid-text. Joan instantly realized her mistake.  
On the other side of the door stood Sherlock, pea-coated, shirt collar buttoned and wide-awake, carrying two cups of coffee in a cardboard holder.

As soon as she opened the door, he started talking, “Rabbits in and of themselves do not tend to be volatile but I’m going to need more information. Fill me in on the details…”

\-------

Joan was in a mood. Living alone now, she allowed herself to dwell, wallow and sometimes even - horrors! - act irresponsibly. She dialed his number.

"Watson?" Sherlock answered his phone, surprised to be receiving a call from her. When they weren’t working a case together these days, Watson rarely called. They still had "issues" to resolve.

"Hey, Sherlock… Where are you?" Her voice was purposefully breathy.

"On my way to the precinct. Picking up a coffee. Anything the matter? You sound winded."

Joan rolled her eyes, she’d have to try a little harder. She threw on her most seductive voice and practically purred into the phone, “Nothing’s the matter. I was just thinking of you… Don’t get to see you much now that we aren’t living together … I miss you …” She took a slow breath.

Sherlock at the other end was mystified. “Are you alright? Did you bump your head? Get an ice pack. Marcus, is getting his coffee, we can be over in a few minutes …”

Joan shook her head and realized just how bad she was at this whole seduction thing. She’d have to be more direct. “No, Sherlock…. I just want you.” She whispered into the phone hoping he’d finally take the bait. “I’m sitting here in those little shorty shorts you seemed to like so much and was hoping you could drop by and uhm … You know…” There was silence at the other end of the phone, and then she heard his breathing change.

"Watson, I uh …" His eyes glazed over.

Joan feeling brave proceeded to tell him exactly what she wanted him to do. Sherlock, not a man to fluster easily, had his mind go blank while his body reacted. Joan could hear his breath buzzing in her ear.

"Watson … " The way he said her name made her melt and remorse began to rear its head. Perhaps she’d gone too far, but she couldn’t stop now.

"Yes, baby…"

The word snapped him right out of the testosterone haze she had placed him in. “Baby? …. Baby!” She was trying to prank him again. Joan realized the jig was up.

Sherlock’s voice became stern and irate. “Watson! I know what you’re trying to do. This is like the exploding bunnies, isn’t it? I should have placed you on speaker phone so Marcus could hear how immature you are.”

Joan got defensive, “Go ahead put me on speaker, I’m sure Marcus would love to hear about all our dirty little secrets.”

They both ended the phone call immediately, neither getting the satisfaction of hanging up on the other.

Marcus walked up to the table with his coffee. “Is everything alright?”

 

\---------

The sound at the front door of her apartment was a familiar one. Her lock was being picked, and quite professionally. Joan waited. The door slowly opened. Sherlock poked his head through to find Watson waiting for him, sitting at her desk. He stepped inside the apartment.

"Why didn’t you answer when I knocked?" He looked rather cross at having been put through the exercise for naught.

"Didn’t feel like getting up." Joan barely glanced at him as she continued reading.

Sherlock showed his displeasure with a twist of his neck and a resetting of his stance. “Why did you call me over here? The text sounded urgent.”

Joan took off her glasses and looked at him. “It was a test.”

Sherlock tensed, his jaw gliding back and forth in restrained irritation, “A test? A test of what?”

She looked at him calmly and waved a stop watch at him, “I wanted to see how long it would take you to get here in case of emergency.” Joan looked at him coolly.

"I see." He nodded his head and looked around a bit as if looking for what to say next. His voice dropped to a less officious tone, "Watson, how much longer are you going to torment me like this?"

She looked him square in the eye and said nothing.

"Alright. But you can only push me so far. There will come a point when I won’t come when you call." His words sounded sad rather than threatening.

Joan took a moment before responding, “I told myself the same thing for about eight months.”

Sherlock looked to the ground, nodded resignedly and walked out of her apartment.

\-----------

Sherlock’s phone rang. It was 12:37 a.m. And Watson was calling. He answered.

"And you know what else Sherlock? You’re a jerk."

He took a breath, squeezed his eyes shut for a second before responding in the calmest manner he could muster. “Watson, you’ve been drinking. I know you miss Andrew but …”

"I had one, maybe three glasses of wine, but that’s not the issue. The issue is you’re a jerk."

Sherlock grimaced. He knew he had it coming and she needed to vent, but he did not want to hear it, not like this. “I think you have most likely had nearly the entire contents of a bottle of red wine and you are not thinking clearly at the moment.”

"I don’t need to think clearly to tell you how I feel." She took a breath and the quality of her voice changed. The words came from deep within her. Quiet and dark each word intoned with biting honesty. "No one has ever hurt me as you have. No one. The five cold sentences you left behind ….. they tore at my soul. Made me realize you have no feelings for anyone or anything but yourself. I felt the fool for thinking I could count on you, that we had a tie, a bond so strong that nothing could ever break it. I’m an idiot for taking you back now knowing at some point you’re going to hurt me all over again."

She was crying, soft and muffled and his heart wrenched at the thought of what he had done, how much pain he’d caused her. He listened, willing to take all his punishment, hoping it would help her. He tried to gain control of his shaking breath; head bent forward as his eyes screwed shut trying to stop the tears that spilled out of his eyes, his face taut and red in silent pain, he said nothing.

Rage slowly filled Watson at what she heard as uncaring silence. Her words were forced out through gritted teeth, “You fucking bastard, you don’t care at all do you? You can’t even bother answering me. As long as you get what you want, everyone else be damned especially me. You just use me and toss me aside like yesterday’s garbage …”

At the other end of the call, Sherlock could take it no more. He yelled, “WATSON, STOP IT! Stop this, please …. I know…. I know I hurt you. I hate myself more than you ever could.” His breath stuttered as he tried to regain his composure. “I understand your anger, you have every right to it but please, please know that I learn from my mistakes, that I care and have always cared about you deeply …” Sherlock’s words caught in his throat and when they escaped they were a breathless whisper, “..... I have no right to ask … forgive me… please don’t give up on us ……“

Joan’s hand covered her mouth, her tear-stained face blotchy and suddenly pale, “Sherlock?” Her voice was weak and almost pleading when she said his name. “… You were right about the wine … I think I’m going to be sick.” She dropped the phone and ran to the bathroom.

"Watson? WATSON!" Sherlock’s exclamations were met with silence. "I’m coming over right now… Can you hear me." He was out the door before he finished his last sentence.


End file.
